


A little too much vodka

by justtoogaytofunction



Category: Glee RPF
Genre: Birthday Sex, Drunk Sex, Failed Sex, Funny, Humour, M/M, crisscolfer, drunk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-18
Updated: 2014-05-18
Packaged: 2018-01-25 15:46:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,186
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1653965
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justtoogaytofunction/pseuds/justtoogaytofunction
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Chris' party guests have gone home, leaving him alone with Darren. Chris really wants to have sex and eventually Darren reluctantly agrees- Chris doesn't seem in a fit state to do anything but sleep off his drunkenness. When they do have sex, it goes horribly wrong.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A little too much vodka

The last trickles of people are leaving, cabs picking up a hoard of drunken guests, when Chris staggers, clutching the kitchen counter to hold himself steady.

‘Whoa, easy,’ Darren grins, trying not to laugh. Not necessarily laughing at Chris, just from the excessive amounts of alcohol they’ve been getting their way through all evening.

‘Are they all gone?’ Chris slurs, blinking hard and looking round the room. There’s a general mess of rubbish strewn around with collections of empty bottles gathered all over his house.

‘Yep,’ Darren tells Chris, pouring him a glass of water. ‘Just you and me.’

Chris smiles at that, taking a seat on the floor, legs slumped out in front of him. ‘I love youuu,’ he sings, giggling at the sound before hiccuping. He gladly takes the water Darren hands him, managing to spill half of it down his top.

‘I love you more. Think it’s time we went to bed though.’

Darren’s not even trying to be suggestive. Yes, drunk sex is awesome but he’s not sure Chris will get through it without puking up or passing out. Chris takes it sexually though, raising a coy eyebrow and licking his lips, teasing Darren with the flick of his tongue.

‘Do you want-‘ Chris starts, head nodding down before he darts it back up again. ‘Do you want to see my wand?’

Darren can’t help but snort at that, shaking his head.

‘Oh Chris. Come on, let’s get you up.’

Darren slips his hands under Chris’ armpits, holding his breath as he yanks him up. When did Chris even get so heavy? Oh right, since he gained a ton of muscle.

‘Are we going to bed?’ Chris mumbles as Darren leads him though the hall and half pushes, half carries him up the stairs and into his bedroom. ‘Darren, are you going to fuck me?’

Darren doesn’t reply. He’s sort of at a loss for what to do. He decides if Chris gets his cock out, he’ll take it, but he won’t initiate it. Chris is going to feel so ill in the morning, poor thing.

Chris manages to stumble into bed, falling onto it fully clothed. He makes no attempt to move so Darren helps get him out of his pants and shirt, smirking at how absolutely wasted Chris has got.

Chris notices Darren undressing him and reaches a hand down to help him, pushing the waistband of his pants down and kicking his legs to wriggle out of his jeans.

‘Darren?’ he asks bluntly, staring up into his face.

‘Yeah?’

‘More vodka.’

Darren chuckles aloud at that, patting Chris on the head.

‘I think this man’s had quite enough for one night,’ he laughs. ‘You know you’re scar is smudged all over your forehead, right?’

Chris pouts, rubbing it.

‘My forehead hurts.’

‘I’ll rub it better.’

Darren moves his hand to stroke Chris’ forehead, knowing that Chris is about to feel a whole lot worse when he wakes up. He presses another glass of water to Chris’ lips, hoping Chris will be sober enough to not piss the bed. But then Darren can’t talk. God, his 26th birthday was a mess.

He’s undressing himself now, stripping down to his boxers which cling to his body. Climbing over Chris, he settles into bed, ready to go to sleep.

‘Darren?’ Chris asks again, eyes wide open.

‘Hmm?’

‘My dick hurts too.’

Darren tries his best to ignore that, remembering just how horny Chris gets when he’s drunk and they’re alone. It’s not like Darren isn’t drunk either, he’s just not as bad as Chris. Christ, no one tonight was as bad as Chris.

But then Darren can’t ignore Chris anymore because there’s a foreign hand trailing over his dick and yep, he’s definitely going hard.

‘Come on,’ Chris moans, straddling Darren and unashamedly rocking his hips into him. ‘Come on, fuck me. Come on Darren, whomp my willow!’

It’s so bad Darren cringes but Chris is past the point of being remotely embarrassed. His dick is hard, rutting into Darren’s, which grows with every thrust. Chris doesn’t stop there though, moaning out more ridiculous phrases.

‘I wanna- I wanna get your basklisk into my secret chamber!’

Darren doesn’t bother correcting him.

‘Darrrren, let me be your gryfinwhore.’

Finally Darren gives in, sitting up to strip his boxers off.

‘Oh god Chris, you are such a mess.’

‘I’m your mess,’ Chris laughs, kissing Darren on the cheeks. Chris lies down and takes is boxers off, spreading his legs wide and watching Darren spit on his hand, rubbing it over his own cock and then Chris’ hole before lining himself up.

When Chris feels Darren push inside, it feels so much better than it does sober. Chris is loose, muscles relaxed, and his already dizzy head is overwhelmed by the bursts of pleasure shooting up his spine. He grabs his own cock and starts pumping at it, giving contented little moans as Darren thrusts into him, as hard as he can whilst keeping his balance. Chris tries to sit up but Darren pushes him back down. He’s pretty sure Chris is a danger to them both right now; he can hardly sit upright let alone dominate the rhythm. Chris still attempts to move so Darren leans over him, initiating a long, wet kiss which manages to be sloppy yet extremely sexy at the same time.

‘Mmm,’ Chris moans, lazily flicking his tongue across Darren’s, tasting the vodka and whisky Darren’s been drinking. ‘You taste good,’

‘Really?’ Darren asks. ‘You taste…drunk.’

Chris giggles before turning it into a scream when Darren finds his prostate.

‘Oh god, right-right there,’ he stutters, letting Darren pound into the exact spot over and over again. ‘Fuck Darren, fuck,’

Darren grins and changes his rhythm, going slow over it and feeling Chris writher underneath him with pleasure.

‘You like that babe? You want that?’

‘Fuck,’ is all Chris can say, visible beads of sweat running down his forehead. Darren continues to tease Chris before setting back to the fast pace, trying to reach his orgasm as quick as possible.

‘Darren I’m gonna- I’m gonna,’ Chris moans, grimacing.

‘Huh baby? Darren asks. ‘You gonna come for me?’

Chris lies there motionless, letting Darren fuck him.

‘Nooo,’ he moans, shaking his head. ‘I’m gonna…’

And with that he rolls his head sideways, coughing and then puking down the side of the bed and onto the floor.

‘Ohmygod,’ Darren moans, this time not out of pleasure but disgust. Trying to hide his distaste from Chris he draws out, erection disappearing in record time. Thankfully Chris doesn’t puke again but just lies there, feeling very, very ill.

‘Okay,’ Darren says, switching on the light and holding Chris’ waist. ‘Let’s get you to the bathroom, okay?’

A minute later Chris is bent over the toilet bowl, breathing heavily as Darren strokes his hair.

‘Darren,’ Chris asks, gripping onto the floor.

‘Yeah?’

‘We never finished sex.’

Darren doesn’t know how to respond to that. Flickering his eyes down Chris’ stomach, he sees Chris is still semi hard, stroking himself absentmindedly.

Fuck, this boy was pissed.


End file.
